


Stillness

by yamatsukkei



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, No Dialogue, Pining, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-05
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:53:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23030479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yamatsukkei/pseuds/yamatsukkei
Summary: It's the quiet moments that Kei likes more than anything. Yamaguchi likes to talk; he's known that for years. He likes to fill the silence with mundane chatter, and while Kei has grown used to his voice after all these years, he finds that the times where Yamaguchi says nothing to be the most impactful.----On Hiatus at the moment
Relationships: Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi
Comments: 14
Kudos: 76





	1. Kei

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think my mind jumped a million places everywhere while writing this ckdjdjdh so if it doesn't ? make sense im so sorry i jus wanted to vibe and write pining tsukki out of nowhere  
> i loved writing it tho

It's the quiet moments that Kei likes more than anything. Yamaguchi likes to talk; he's known that for years. He likes to fill the silence with mundane chatter, and while Kei has grown used to his voice after all these years, he finds that the times where Yamaguchi says nothing to be the most impactful. He gazes at his face more often, when Yamaguchi's attention is elsewhere and doesn't notice the pair of golden eyes trained on him. Kei would tear his eyes away if Yamaguchi looks at him, but so far, he hasn't.

Kei likes listening to Yamaguchi talk, which is why he stopped using his headphones on their walks together for a while now. He always has something to say, always has something to share. The way he so easily slips into his own little world when talking about something that interests him is endearing, Kei admits to himself. Mostly because Yamaguchi has yet to catch on that Kei sees everything, now, whether he liked it or not.

And it's like the times where he stares at the piles of work upon his desk with a focused expression, legs pulled up onto his chair and sitting in that odd way he does when he's comfortable — one knee brought up to his chest and the other folded across, resting underneath said leg. He rests his chin on his knee sometimes, and Kei's always wondered just how he could do that, even with his height. Those are the times where Yamaguchi says nothing, brows furrowed in concentration, and Kei doesn't know whether to look at the words in his lap or the much more interesting work in front of him, living, breathing, invoking so many emotions inside him that he doesn't know what to do at all.

Yet Kei stares at him either way, his gaze resting on the small pout of his lips, the tip of his tongue sticking out as he scribbles something down. His focus is unparalleled, for Kei has softly spoken his name on accident one too many times; wanting to see his attention on him, but cursing every moment his name slips out. He's grateful that Yamaguchi never seems to notice, and by the time he finishes his homework, Kei's eyes have dropped to his own assignment, pencil gently dragging across his paper.

He always takes a little longer in doing his homework, during their study sessions and such every day, because he can't keep his mind off of the face that somehow became his waking dream. He wonders if attempting to sleep more would be better for his health.

One of his favorite times of silence is when they're stargazing in his backyard, having taken their usual cup of hot chocolate to the small table on the wooden deck — regardless of the temperature, it's Yamaguchi's fault for wanting to keep up a tradition that's started in the winter, and partly his fault for having such a sweet tooth that can't refuse any such thing for the life of him. 

Yamaguchi's hands curl around his cup and he quivers with laughter at one of Kei's witty remarks, before placing his drink upon the table, eyes mirroring the stars that dot the skies above him, and Kei finds that he doesn't need a telescope to stargaze. He doesn't need to see the night sky when it's in front of him at all times of the day.

The laughter that appears during these sessions are louder than any star, more apparent than Polaris itself. Kei rethinks his initial thought of silence having more of an impression than Yamaguchi's lack of words. The sounds that spill from his mouth that cause him to feel a spark within, such as a stifled giggle or the tiniest click of the tongue. Maybe every kind of Yamaguchi was the best kind. Silence, sounds, words, whatever Yamaguchi offered, Kei thinks he likes them all.

He idly wonders what this means.

Yamaguchi speaks of cookies, and baking them together with him. He's happy he even offered, and they spend the next day gathering ingredients, making sure that they have enough. A bag of chocolate chips is shoved in front of his face, while he had been looking at cans of sprinkles. A bright smile accompanies said chocolate chips, and Kei sees the sweets that dot his friend's face before he sees the ones proffered into his hands. Yamaguchi can't track the direction of his eyes, it seems, because he keeps shaking the bag in his hands, and a pleading look starts to make its way onto his face. 

Kei turns, holding the bag of chocolate chips in his arms, cradling it close. He listens to the soft cheers as Yamaguchi plucks an obnoxiously bright can of sprinkles off the shelf, launching into a rant detailing the many kinds of cookies they could make. Kei stops him with a few words, but Yamaguchi drops the can into his arms anyways, right on top of the chocolate chips.

Kei watches Yamaguchi grab a container of frosting, laughing as he mentions wanting to smear it all over Kei's face. He absentmindedly replies that that would be a waste of money, so his friend grabs another container as a response, claiming he would pay for it, then, if Kei was going to be so stingy about it. Kei rolls his eyes, turning away, but he can't wait for a chance to retaliate Yamaguchi's eventual frosting attack when they return home. His mom would get mad at him (and she did), but it's worth whatever smiles he can pull from Yamaguchi for indulging in his ridiculous stunts that he ends up enjoying, no matter what.

During a sleepover, Yamaguchi struggles to stay awake, falling victim to the warm embrace of sleep before Kei does. He's glad that he did, because he doesn't think he could take the guilt that comes with the knowledge that his friend would have done anything for his insomniac self. He should know. He's done it before. Either way, seeing Yamaguchi fall completely silent, save for the rhythmic breathing, is calming. Kei watches the rise and fall of his chest, the way his cheek is pressed up into the pillow he's hugging into his head, that strand of hair that's still sticking up even in his sleep. 

Kei feels too conscious of himself then, looking away as if he was caught in a pair of headlights. But he wasn't. Yamaguchi wasn't even awake. But the fact that he could wake at any moment... Any moment where Kei was staring at him as if he was the entire world (he was, but Kei couldn't bring himself to admit it just yet) and it could all come crumbling down just like that. 

It wasn't that Kei was obvious, or that Yamaguchi was oblivious; Kei just doesn't want to lose what he has right now. Watching Yamaguchi go about his life, silently, wordlessly, or bursting with passion, it was something he's come to cherish. He was happy that that he was even a part of his life — he's expected him to leave years ago, after they had just met, like everyone else had. He hopes that Yamaguchi feels the same way.

Kei wants to continue watching the stars fall onto his skin, dropping onto his cheeks and sticking there for as long as forever, the glittering excess to be found within his eyes and smile. He wants to continue doing so, without being caught. Without having it be torn away from him. Everything that he wants, he's achieved by silently watching over his friend. He would really hate to lose it so soon because of a mishap caused by his own hubris, or lack thereof.

The illogical side of Kei, the one that shows itself during moments of weakness, thinks that maybe this is why he can't sleep lately. The logical side of Kei thinks the same thing. Well, what is there to be done when two sides of the same coin end up looking just that, the same? No matter how much he flips this coin, it's going to end up the same. Both sides of him are also convinced that his disgusting way of silently fawning over him is going to ruin him some day, but he foolishly keeps being as he is, knowing this and embracing it with the confidence he could never gather to say to Yamaguchi's face.

He returns to watching Yamaguchi sleep, thinking of this quiet moment that seemed to override all others in terms of endearment and emotion. They weren't even meant to be sleeping side by side; Yamaguchi just fell asleep beside him while Kei was rambling to him about a false informational article that was circulating the internet. And of course he didn't have the heart to wake him up so he could move to his rightful place on the floor, on the futon his mother always leaves aside for him. Yamaguchi just looked so peaceful. Like he attained a peace that Kei wishes he could have, wishes he could share with him.

Yamaguchi stirs, and Kei quickly feigns sleep, shoving his head to the side and curling his fingers into his pillow as he feels Yamaguchi turn around in his sleep, blissfully unaware to the waking world, and the boy beside him whose thoughts was everything related to him. Kei's breath quickened, and his heart was pounding. He lets out a soft huff of laughter and bewilderment at himself; he can't believe that he was scared of being caught. (Of course, he is, and probably would never not be. His feelings being out in the open, torn bare for all to see, especially his best friend of all people, he would rather die than let that happen.)

It was almost exhilarating, the rush of adrenaline that ran through him at the prospect of being found. He doesn't want to do that again though, so he closes his eyes and breathes, enough to calm his racing heart. He wonders if his heart pounded this much before when thinking about Yamaguchi, and promptly gets embarrassed of the thought. He was a lovesick puppy, as he was sure Yamaguchi would call him if he had any idea of his odd habit of "people watching." It was just another reason why he couldn't let any of these feelings go. It was nice, and new. Terrifying and eye-opening.

Of course, Kei gets caught the morning after, having woken up at the crack of dawn for no reason. He scrolls through social media on his phone, but his eyes fall on his friend's face, when he rolled over once again in his sleep. He watches him, watching his hair curl around his face. He wants to brush back his hair, but he can't. He wants to caress his face, but he can't. Then, Yamaguchi's eyes open, and stare sleepily into his. Kei nearly jerks away, instead curling into himself, staring at his phone instead. It carried a much more interesting post anyways. It was a video of a bird dancing. He rolls back over to show said video to Yamaguchi, who rubs his eyes to get a better look. 

He hopes that he's already forgotten about Kei staring at him, since he grabbed his phone from his hands and was laughing softly at the jerky movements of the bird. He looks up at Kei, the video on loop. Their eyes meet yet again, and Kei looks away, reaching for Yamaguchi's phone on his desk so he could look through his own social media instead of using his phone, on his account. Yamaguchi sticks out his tongue, pointing to a video of a fox this time, and Kei rolls his eyes, unlocking Yamaguchi's phone just so they could spend a couple extra minutes looking at whatever posts the other has on their feed. He really hopes Yamaguchi won't comment on anything at all.

Kei thinks that one of the worst times to look at Yamaguchi is during those days. The days where Yamaguchi is seemingly listless, or the days where he hyper focuses on his work, to ignore whatever mood life forced into his hands that day. His eyes lack any joy, and Kei can't readily give him any reason to have some, not without observing how exactly he's feeling, because asking can be too much sometimes. It's a little more tense during those days, and Kei wants nothing but for him to smile, because Yamaguchi is the only person that deserves more than what the world offers him.

Kei always does whatever he can to appease his mood, not for himself but for the sake of him, too. Whether this is by giving him candy, doodling in his notebook so he could stare at them during class, or letting him listen to one of his playlists he's made for him. (Yes, he's made multiple just for him, because he's always listening to whatever Kei listens to anyways, so he figured having playlists for him would be nice. Because they're friends, you know.)

The small grin that adorns his face when he hands him a bag of fries the following day is worth more than he could ever hope to know, he feels. It's such a small thing, but the impact it had was not miniscule at all. It meant so much to him, he could tell, from the way he shifted towards Kei, leaning against him as he munched on his fries, and Kei knew he appreciated it, even if he wasn't expecting it in the first place. He thinks that's what made it so effective, though. Despite that, he promised himself that he would do things like this more often. Show him that he cares.

It's not that Kei being nice to Yamaguchi is anything new or surprising to anyone at this point, but still he wonders if Yamaguchi himself is surprised at Kei's willingness to be kind to him. He was always particularly biased to him in the first place, so he would obviously try his best to make sure that he knows he's there for him. It's not a one-sided friendship after all, no matter what anyone else sees of them. What they see is probably only 25% of their full relationship anyways. They don't know of their sleepovers, their stargazing sessions, the days upon weeks upon months upon years that they've spent together, weaved together by stars and dinosaurs and fries and strawberries and music and the moon itself. No one knows in full detail what it was like for the two of them, no one but themselves. But how they both perceive it is what worries Kei, just a little.

At this point, after analyzing all his thoughts that seem to be filled with nothing but the freckles upon his friend's face, the chocolate of his eyes that melt into a bright, shining stare, or the peals of laughter that ring through his ears from amusing situations or the like, Kei admits that it's not normal. It's not a normal thing to think about Yamaguchi as much as he does, despite the fact that he's only his best friend of a couple years now. It's not normal, but it's not something Kei's afraid of. He embraces it now, but doesn't know what to do about it.

He doesn't know when his thoughts had shifted from the daily chatter his friend supplies, to the sounds of his happiness, to the way his body moves in practice, to everything else and more. It's so strange, but he doesn't dislike this at all. He keeps going over events in his mind, and constantly wonders if Yamaguchi might feel the same way, or at least thinks the same of him.

He looks down to where Yamaguchi had fallen asleep, against his shoulder on the bus ride back from a set of practice matches against one of the nearby schools. He shifts, just a little, to close his eyes and lean his head against his. Closeness like this was nice every once and a while, and he felt like he could allow himself to have this, even at the risk of being seen by their teammates. He could possibly keep this a secret for as long as he wanted, really. If Yamaguchi hadn't caught his stares weeks ago, or if he did but didn't comment, he wonders how he would feel about this. It's not as if they haven't been even closer before, but the fact that Kei was reciprocating his sleeping friend's actions probably made it different from anything else.

He can probably say with a 99% possibility that he has a crush on his best friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pining tsukki rights, i say


	2. Tadashi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tadashi wonders how long this has been going on for. This crush he's had on his best friend.
> 
> It's not like it came suddenly, like a ton of bricks dropping right onto his person, or a flash of lightning and thunder that shook him to his core. Instead, it was something soft and timid, seeping in and mixing so well with his own regular feelings of contentedness that he didn't realize it. It was something warm yet not unwelcome, only the opposite, serving to create a small partition that neatly separated his feelings into categories of the romantic and the platonic sort. At least 99% of his feelings have moved on into the romantic side of things, and he's desperately clinging to the 1% in the platonic side that has its head screwed on right.
> 
> That one percent is what's keeping him afloat anyways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it took a while but i did end up writing another chapter!! this time in tadashi's pov, and still no dialogue. it's not as structured as kei's chapter but it's still important, and i hope i conveyed the feelings and thoughts that run through tadashi's mind well.

Tadashi wonders how long this has been going on for. This crush he's had on his best friend.

It's not like it came suddenly, like a ton of bricks dropping right onto his person, or a flash of lightning and thunder that shook him to his core. Instead, it was something soft and timid, seeping in and mixing so well with his own regular feelings of contentedness that he didn't realize it. It was something warm yet not unwelcome, only the opposite, serving to create a small partition that neatly separated his feelings into categories of the romantic and the platonic sort. At least 99% of his feelings have moved on into the romantic side of things, and he's desperately clinging to the 1% in the platonic side that has its head screwed on right.

That one percent is what's keeping him afloat anyways.

Tadashi thinks that the only reason the romantic, yearning side of him hasn't spilled over in the form of a crashing tsunami was because of his strong ability to ignore everything. (He inherited this from Tsukishima, unfortunately. But this is the only time he willingly ignores his problem.)

He's realized that there was just some things he should give up. Chasing after Tsukishima is one of those things, and he's decided that early on. He doesn't want to ruin the years between them, the years they've spent together existing in the same space, their world revolving around themselves alone. The times they've spent together were times of an unadulterated closeness that could only be seen as friendship. A platonic sort of thing, where they hang out at each other's homes and watch bad movies to comment on it, whether it was with sardonic words or not. Sleepovers that were full of whispered secrets, serious or not, and shared stories that spanned the skies and the earth, fictional or not. 

He's decided that he wouldn't actively chase after Tsukishima, because it's highly unlikely that he would have liked him back. He's never given any indication that he even wants to be in a romantic relationship, considering the many girls he's turned down, and Tadashi's profound confidence that he wouldn't ever like a guy like him. That wasn't being said in the self-destructive sense either, because Tadashi genuinely believes he's an average guy. And just Tsukishima's best friend, nothing more.

He would like to just pine after him in peace, and not let his feelings be known, in hopes that it would go away. But he thinks he would be okay with holding back any sort of advancement, if it stays.

And his mind still wanders, over to the times they've spent in close proximity, leaning on their shoulders or into their sides or against each other's backs, while they read or write or watch any sort of media that they end up immediately turning to show the other with a miniscule smile. Those were the times he felt the warmest, and he greedily lets himself bask in those moments when they happen, because he's unsure of when the next moment would come, despite it being haphazardly often.

Tadashi won't chase after Tsukishima, but he allows himself to indulge in the moments that are quiet and soft, where galaxies swirled above their heads and the wind was a silent, yet refreshing presence. It's not as if he was yearning for more, he thinks, because he's done his best to not do that. But it was nice, thinking of the many moments where he's felt nothing but warmth. 

Whenever he was with Tsukishima, it always felt warm, warm, warm.

One day, Tadashi awakens with a horrible, terrible feeling. His head is pounding, and it's all he can do to pull the covers over himself to block out any light that seeped through the curtains in his room. He hears a door open, but his mind is fuzzy and his body feels hot, flashing between feelings that rival chilling ice and a blizzard of snow and feelings that were akin to an erupting volcano and the ever so bright sun. He might have been exaggerating, he might not have been, he doesn't know. He registers a soft, familiar voice, and at said voice's prompting, freed his face from the darkness and comfort of his blanket.

He stares blankly at his mother, who pats his cheek once or twice, directing his shaky gaze to medicine and water. Nodding at her, he promises to take it, doing so under watchful, concerned eyes, and she envelops him in a hug that dissolves him entirely. Laying back down, calling out a hoarse goodbye to her, he feebly reaches around for his phone, discontent to know that it had been charging all night, far away from him and holding so many things he wanted but could not have at the time. He closes his eyes, his headache being less than ideal but dealing with it and trying to drown himself in his own thoughts. Thinking of nothing but the friend who's surely waiting for him at their usual meeting spot, of the best friend who will move on yet hopefully worry about him as the school day goes by, of the crush that he wish he could apologize to for no reason at all, save for everything he's felt for him and more.

He dreams of his voice, low and undiscerning, coming from his phone as he holds it in his hand, cradling it close to his chest. He's unable to hear, unable to respond very well past mumbling to the spoken words, but he feels nothing but comfort at the thought that he was falling asleep in the presence of him, even if it wasn't physical. A phone call where the two of them were on the verge of sleep, was a concept that sounded so nice and strangely fulfilling to him that he mumbles to himself about the intimacy of it all, wishing they could do it more often.

He awakens to a familiar tone that rings throughout his room, and in a sleepy daze that controls him more than he wishes, he tells of his illness and hints at his want for his friend to be there for him, as if he wasn't already heading over right after school, says his own feelings of yearning and hope.

It's not often that either of them will have days where they're sick, but Tadashi hopes that he hasn't said anything too telling in his fever-induced stupor. He worries that maybe there was something he said that day, knowing the vague feeling he had gotten that Tsukishima had been there, had visited, and was most likely taking care of him. It was all a blur, but he knows Tsukishima would have told him if he had said anything weird. Either that, or ignore it. He hopes for both their sakes that nothing happened at all, but he never gave any indication that he worried, or wanted to know at all. He didn't want to give anything away, especially because he wasn't pursuing anything between them.

Tadashi was content just to stay stagnant, loving Tsukishima from afar, even if he still had no clue when his feelings had sprouted or blossomed into the mess they are now.

It just felt nice, to be content with his feelings, even if he had a scare or two trying to desperately cover them up because of a slip up or two.

He thinks this as he sits across from him, sipping on a drink that wasn't too sweet, yet reminded him of Tsukishima all the same. His friend was eating his favorite dessert, eyes shining yet relaxed, content as he was to sit there with him and enjoy their weekly outing to their favorite café. It was nice to look at him and think about how pretty he looked underneath the glittering sun that touched upon his skin, about how his hair was a sheen of gold, and his eyes the same shade, hovering in hues of amber and hazel, mixing well to create something so beautiful that it was hard to tear his gaze away.

Tsukishima looks happiest when eating his favorite dessert, yet he hopes that that wasn't the only thing that visibly made him as happy. He hopes that he himself had the same sort of impact, even though it was probably just wishful thinking on his part. For someone like him to yearn for Tadashi as much as he does for him, sounded like a sweet dream that he wouldn't mind ever waking up from.

Tadashi smiles while the straw is still in his mouth, and Tsukishima points, a laugh sounding as Tadashi's cheeks turn pink, his smile turning into a mischevious grin that does well to warn him from his attack of whipped cream. With a matching expression, Tsukishima wipes what few got onto his face with a napkin, tossing said napkin right into his face. Unprepared, Tadashi lets out a bark of laughter and a huff, glaring at the other behind his hands.

As much as he wanted to continue, he reminded himself that their world wasn't just the two of them, and they could get kicked out if they kept up their behavior. Telling his friend this, he receives a roll of the eyes and a jab that blames him for starting it, and even if it was true, he still shot back a remark that argued of Tsukishima's retaliation himself, when he easily could have just kept quiet and ignored what Tadashi did. Their banter quietly continues, and they start to kick at each other under the table, sharing grins that could barely hold in their laughter over their dumb antics.

They leave soon enough, the glares from the shopkeepers chasing them out, and Tadashi continues to think of a world where it was just them, where no one could admonish them for fooling around, where no one else could see what he sees, and where their attention could only be focused on each other. It was his ideal world, and it saddened him to think that his ideal world might never come to fruition.

Tadashi takes great comfort in the darkness, knowing that the stars above shine bright just for him. The moon that hangs in the sky, full or waning, is an even greater comfort for him. The stars and the moon never disappear, not even in the life of light, where the sky could be bright with streaks of white, wispy clouds or dark with the sounds of thunder and heavy rain. But the times he can see the stars clearly, with no clouds to block his view, were his favorite times.

He would drag Tsukishima over for the night after practice, talking of falling stars and getting into his rants dealing with space and general star knowledge that he's known since he was younger. He would know if Tsukishima wouldn't want to look at the stars with him, but most of, if not all the time, he lets himself be talked into stargazing with him, even if he feigns indifference, just to be difficult. Even if Tadashi would never want to force him to do anything he doesn't want to, Tsukishima always, always joins him.

Tadashi knows he likes the stars too, because he's offered up his own star facts a few times, and that caused the two of them to talk for hours upon hours into the night, whether they're stargazing or not. During the quiet moments where stars are all they see, Tadashi can't help but study the sky with fervor. He appreciates the silence, because he would let his mind run wild with constellations that stir within his head at all times. He imagines putting color to them, painting the sky with bright hues to shine against the darkness of the night. Bringing attention to what he holds most dear.

One night while they're stargazing, Tadashi finds his eyes wandering past the wonders up above and sweeping over his friend, whose face was relaxed yet searching, possibly for Orion's Belt. Possibly for something more. Tsukishima asks what he's managed to see so far, and Tadashi instantly replies with the name Polaris. Pointing it out with an outstretched finger, he inches closer to Tsukishima, feeling braver than he's ever known. Leaning into his side, seeking the comfort he loves to have, directing their attention to the bright star.

Little did Tsukishima know, that the Polaris Tadashi spoke of was right beside him, and the one in the skies couldn't ever hope to compare itself to what Tsukishima was to him. He was the moon, the stars, and the very same sky that held both. He loved the sky so very much as a result. Thinking of celestial existences in high regard could be something short of a passion, he supposes.

Tadashi thinks one of his favorite memories with his friend was a recent one, where they achieved so much together during the day. The aftermath of it all was something he liked thinking about often. They had practiced their hearts out with volleyball, working on their new technique that Tadashi had hoped to learn for months on end, ever since seeing it in a match their team had been in. Being able to execute it in nationals was exhilarating, and the excitement had charged him with an electricity that could not be contained. Regardless of the outcome then, it was one of the many exciting things that had happened within the span of the few days they were there. Volleyball was fun.

Sitting against the wall of the gym, drinking water, they rest for a little while, and Tadashi couldn't help but mention it to Tsukishima with a proud smile. He was proud of himself, and his friend, and the both of them in general for making a great team. Maybe one day they would be feared as a duo like their fellow first years, and just thinking about it only encouraged him to work harder, on his serve, on his blocking, on everything he ever could. He praises Tsukishima, who deflects his praise with barely hidden embarrassment, but he doesn't falter, nudging his shoulder and getting him to smile back at him. Glowing, when Tsukishima says the same about him and the hard work he's put into the club for all these months, and even before.

Praise from Tsukishima wasn't far and in-between as it was before, and thinking that the club, which Tsukishima didn't take as seriously as Tadashi did, helped him this far always filled him with a feeling of giddy glee that fueled him to do more, achieve more, by himself and with his best friend at his side.

Tadashi stands up, holding out a hand to pull him up, and with the biggest grin, he smacks his back hard, laughing as Tsukishima almost stumbles over. Chortling out an apology, his usual, he pushes him to continue to do his best in practice, for the year to come and forever more.

He's happy to hear his grunt of affirmation, and watches as he soars, flying to hit a set and hitting it dead on, cheering for him quickly before continuing to do the same. Wanting to be the magnificent avian that could fly with such grace with just a little effort.

He ignores the part of him that admires him so much, that sees the beauty behind him, who wants nothing more than to be even closer, and to hold his hand and the desire to be more than just his best friend.

Holding Tsukishima to ideations that only increased his love for him might have been more detrimental than not, but it was something that originally helped him overcome the overwhelming wave that was the depressing thought that they could never be what he wished they could be.

He realizes now that he might be yearning too much, because his thoughts were overflowing with dreams and wishes that Tsukishima would look at him the same way, and struggles with trying to separate dreams and reality. But time passes and passes, and he continues to believe that there was no way his feelings could ever be returned. He keeps revisiting the memories he holds dear, and making new ones that he cherishes more than anything. Daydreams are plentiful in giving him what he wants, only to jolt awake in class and remind himself that the present doesn't hold any speck or hint of his wish coming true.

The singular percentage that represented Tadashi's platonic feelings towards Tsukishima had thrown itself over to the romantic side, and multiplied so much that it started to hurt.

He thinks of that warm smile and ignores the cold voice within him that says that while it may be directed _at_ him, it'll never be _for_ him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm not sure what i will do with the next chapter, or when it'll be done, but i'd like to keep up that no dialogue aspect  
> either way i hope this is enjoyable !!


End file.
